Words, Words, Words
by whitchry9
Summary: Wherein Sherlock uses lots of big obscure words, and John struggles to keep up. A series of drabbles, going in somewhat alphabetical order. Not completed, as there is no real plot.
1. Prologue

**AN: I've been dancing around this fic for some time, and I originally planned on making it one long, cohesive plot line, but I realized that was never going to happen. So instead, I'm going to post them as short drabbles.  
For these words and their definition, I am forever indebted to other-wordly dot tumblr dot com. I suggest checking it out, as there are many more words there that I will not use in this story.**

* * *

John didn't always understand everything Sherlock said, but usually it was the way his mind jumped from idea to idea rather than the words themselves.

Except it seemed like Sherlock had found a book of obscure words and had taken it upon himself to use as many as possible in every day conversation.

So if John was confused about what was going on before, he sure as hell was lost now.


	2. Acatalepsy

After a particularly gruelling day at a crime scene, Sherlock almost driving the new assistant Anderson was training, to tears _twice, _John decided it would be best to return home.

Sherlock sulked during the cab ride until he came to his brilliant conclusion. "Human can never have acatalepsy," Sherlock declared. "They're simply too stupid. As long as there are people like Anderson in the world, even with all my genius, we can't have any hope."

John only sighed, and closed his eyes, hoping the cab driver couldn't hear. He didn't want to be thrown out. Again.


	3. Adoxography

John wasn't stupid, at least, not as stupid as Sherlock may think, and he learned a few words of his own. The only problem was waiting for a time to use them.

(It helped that he learned ones relevant to things Sherlock would say.)

"You should read the writing I did on the different types of tobacco ash."

"Adoxography," John noted.

Sherlock glared at him. "Thank you for the compliment, but it is indeed of importance," he snapped.

John only smirked.


	4. Aischrolatry

They were both sitting in the living room on their respective laptops.

Sherlock had been scrolling loudly when he stopped to speak.

"John, I fear the internet has turned to aischrolatry in their time of need."

John only looked at him blankly.

"I am _not _telling you what that means," Sherlock said firmly. "You can look that up yourself."

Five minutes later, John looked up from his computer, eyes wide.

"I don't even want to know how you discovered that," he whispered.

Sherlock shook his head. "No... you really don't."


	5. Gigil

They'd found it while they were searching for some obscure piece of evidence. It was hidden behind a garbage skip, making pathetic sounds, and seemed thrilled to see them. Sherlock scooped it up and tucked it in his pocket, completely forgetting about what they were searching for.

He cooed at it the whole cab ride home.

When they arrived back at the flat, John filled up a saucer with milk, which they actually had for once. Two days before, Sherlock had done some sort of experiment that required five different types of milk, but he only used about a tablespoon from each. John didn't bother asking anymore.

The kitten quickly lapped it up with its sandpapery tongue.

"She," Sherlock told John. "It's a girl."

"We're not keeping her," John informed him, somewhat disappointed himself. But they'd babysat a kitten once, and Mrs Hudson quickly put an end to that. There was now a no pets rule at the flat. Not that Mrs Hudson's rules really mattered, but John wasn't looking for an increase in rent. Again.

"I know," Sherlock murmured, stroking her with his finger as she purred. "But I seem to be experiencing gigil."

John smiled a little.

"As am I," he replied, scooping the kitten up and cuddling it close to his chest. "Perhaps Mrs Hudson will feel the same way."


	6. Defenestrate

"Sherlock, did you really just defenestrate that man?" John demanded, after witnessing the man fall on Mrs Hudson's bins. The poor woman had been alarmed enough, and now to top it all off, her bins were ruined.

"Rather a big word for you," he muttered.

John smiled, pleased with himself. "Yeah, well, you're not the only one who can learn things." He stopped talking abruptly as he saw the smile on Sherlock's cheeks.

"Don't think I've forgotten about the defenestration incident," John warned. "I'm not Molly, and I will not swoon over you."

Sherlock scowled. "He deserved it."

There was no argument from John there.

* * *

**AN- I've been getting a lot of questions about what the words mean, and rather than answer them individually, I get all of these words from the **

**other-wordly tumblr.**

**You can find them, and many more, there.**


End file.
